Tales From the Airduct
by Le Rusecue
Summary: Anecdotes concerning the survivors of the Willamette outbreak. Title inspired by a chapter from Quillion42's excellent story "Airduct Anecdotes Anthology". Nothing in this story is owned by me, not even the title.


The entrance plaza was filled with the few survivors who had made it to the mall when the outbreak occurred. Most of them were crying, though a select few were remaining calm in the face of death, and inevitable reanimation, or being lunch for the zombies. But two people, located in the back near the gate that cut the plaza off half way, were actually arguing during this.

The two people in question were Alan and Kathy Peterson, the only married couple in the plaza. Though it seemed in this time of duress, that the bond between the two would soon be dissolved. Kathy sat on the floor with her back against one of the foundations, massaging her wounded ankle. Around her head, she had a bloody cloth.

"Damn it," Alan said, his frustration with his spouse at an all time high. "Every time I come shopping with you, something happens to raise my blood pressure!" he exclaimed.

"What do you mean 'every time'? You don't even come home most nights, let alone take me shopping." the woman said, fighting back the tears. It appeared to most in the plaza that Kathy was playing the role of victim in this argument.

"So? I work for a living!" Alan shouted. Kathy scoffed at her husband, looking him in the eyes with her only bare eye.

"Work? Is that what you call that hankie pankie with that big-titted secretary of yours!" the secretary in question was Rachel Decker, and what Kathy had just accused Alan of was just that, an accusation. Alan was always a faithful husband, he would never even dream of cheating on his spouse.

"Oh, please… What the hell does she have to do with anything!" he yelled.

"Listen to you! Every time something goes wrong, you have to raise your voice at me!" she shouted, raising up from the foundation slightly. "I never should have married you!"

"You want to split up? Sounds _great_! I can't wait to see the look on your face when those zombies get in here and get you. It will be _hilarious_!"

Kathy, hurt, retorted only with "That's my line, buster." before the argument could continue any further, the two noticed a commotion in the front of the plaza. The old woman who had been crying over her dog was next to the doors… and she was _opening them_!

"Madonna!" the woman cried. "My Madonna is out there!" she said as she moved the trash they called a barricade out of her way. Chris Hines and Freddie May, a young man and a member of mall security, respectively, rushed to her side and tried to stop her. But adrenaline overpowered the woman, and she pushed the two men away as if they were nothing.

And then she opened the door, making a passage for the endless flow of walking corpses. Upstairs, on the bridge connecting the two sides of the second floor, stood an African American man. "What in the hell are you people doing!" he shouted. "Get to the stairs!" he ordered to the frozen survivors. "Move!"

By that point, the crowd of undead had already poured in and overwhelmed the three men at the barricade. They were already at the stairs, guaranteeing a hard trip for anyone that would get there. The only one of the survivors who wasn't petrified by the walking corpses' entrance was the photographer who had arrived a half an hour before. He picked up a nearby bat, and made a mad dash for the stair cases, cutting down any of the undead that got in his way.

When he got up the stairs, everyone was dead. _Almost _everyone. Alan was still alive and well, knocking back any of the corpses that dared get near him and his wife. The sudden breach of undead had changed Alan's mind about his wife. It had made him feel guilty for yelling at her, for arguing with her during what may have been their final moments together. He would have to be sure to apologize to her as soon as this was all over with.

However, while he was busy defending his wife, he didn't notice her standing up behind him, slowly and quietly, groaning as she did. For a few brief moments, she watched as he bashed in the heads of the dead men with his 2x4. And then she lunged at him, grabbed his shoulder, and then sank her teeth into the flesh of his neck. Alan let out a loud cry of pain as he and his undead wife fell forward into the crowd of hungry monsters.

His screams continued to fill the plaza, until he was no more.

XxXxX

Otis sat on a stool, next to the open air duct. "Aw, now wasn't that sad?" Otis said, following it with a maniac cackle. "Now that our first tale is over with, let's see who is going to be the next victim in our tales." as Otis said this, he struck a match against the metallic door to the vent, and then tossed it in. Huge flames spat out of the duct, eventually retreating back in. Otis peeked in, and smiled at the result.

"It looks like our next story will center around the 'Life and Zombification of Jessica McCarney!'" Otis fell back down on the stool, and let out another of his maniacal cackles. "Sit back, little kiddies, and enjoy the next anecdote in 'Tales from the Airduct!'"


End file.
